


There's a Kind of Hush

by San Antonio Rose (ramblin_rosie)



Series: The Sounds of Silence AU [7]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Cross-Posted on LiveJournal, Deaf Dean Winchester, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-26
Updated: 2014-11-26
Packaged: 2021-03-10 07:01:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27589247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ramblin_rosie/pseuds/San%20Antonio%20Rose
Summary: Dean's deafness doesn't mean there isn't another shoe or three to drop every time he turns around.  At least this time it holds off untilafterhe and Lisa tie the knot, and at least this batch of shoes isn't all bad news.
Relationships: Lisa Braeden/Dean Winchester
Series: The Sounds of Silence AU [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2016778
Kudos: 4





	There's a Kind of Hush

Outside Clayton, LA, Donnie Finnerman staggers up to an old windmill outside an abandoned house. It’s a minor miracle that he’s walking at all—or maybe it isn’t. Maybe it’s part of the magic, allowing the second soul in his chest to serve as a conduit between his own soul and his body that bypasses his badly short-circuited brain. Donnie doesn’t know, nor does he really care. He stopped asking questions a long time ago. Besides, he’s here for a purpose, fulfilling a promise made in exchange for a last request.

His chest burns. “Take it easy, man,” he murmurs. “This isn’t like Purgatory. Gonna take me some time.”

Purgatory had been so odd, from the way Raphael had abandoned him at once to the way his physical ailments had ceased to exist for the time being. His passenger had warned him from the first that they might come back once they got back to Earth, but despite his own request, Donnie hadn’t quite believed it until he stumbled out of the Hundred-Mile Wilderness and barely had the motor control to make a final call to his family, to tell them goodbye. He hadn’t wanted to see anyone in this condition, but his sister insisted on being the one to drive him down here. She’s gone back to town, but he doesn’t think he’s convinced her to go home without him.

Slowly, awkwardly, he locates the grave and excavates it. It’s the hardest work he’s done on Earth since the riot where Raphael saved him and doomed him all at once. Then he stands over the bones, cuts open the bulge in his chest, and says the magic words to release his passenger. And as the soul flows down into the bones and wraps itself in flesh, Donnie’s overtaxed nerves give out, and he collapses.

A moment later, his passenger bends over him. “We made it, brother,” whispers the whisky-rough drawl as a hand, still as cold as in Purgatory but now solid in a way it hadn’t been there, cradles the back of Donnie’s neck. “Thanks for holdin’ up your end of the deal. Here’s mine.”

Fangs sink into Donnie’s neck, though he barely feels them. If anything, the bite feels like a farewell kiss. And as his life drains away at lightning speed, his breath flees in a sigh of relief, and he goes with the Reaper without a backward glance.

Refreshed but sad, the vampire straightens and lays Donnie’s body in his own grave. Replacing the dirt and placing a simple wooden cross takes far less time for him than digging him up had taken Donnie, and so does the walk back to town. On the way, he reviews what he’d learned from Donnie in Purgatory, what he’d discovered hidden in Donnie’s mind that Donnie had no conscious access to, and what he’d gleaned from the shred of grace Raphael had left behind. His plans aren’t finalized yet, but these memories may help him if he decides he needs backup.

Donnie’s sister isn’t hard to find. She’s sitting near the window of the coffee shop on Main Street, watching the road anxiously. He makes eye contact with her from the sidewalk before walking in and approaching her table.

“Miz Finnerman?” he asks as he removes his hat.

She draws a deep breath. “Yes. How, um—”

“I’m the friend Donnie came down here to help. And I’m real sorry to have to tell you....”

“Is—did he—”

“Fell, hit his head. Bled out so fast, wasn’t time to get help.”

She sobs, and he finds a handkerchief in his pocket—still clean, to his surprise. He hands it to her, and she weeps into it.

“I buried him out at my place,” he tells her. “Way his head was, I didn’t figure you’d want to take him back to Maine. But I’ll show you, if you want.”

She nods and sniffles. “Yes, I’d... I’d like that. Thank you, Mr.—”

“Lafitte. Benny Lafitte.”

* * *

Cas spilled the beans about the wedding to Henry. Of course he did. Because he’s a child who doesn’t understand the 1950s.

Dean can’t be mad about it, though, because Cas has also brought an unspeakably precious wedding present. Well, a two-parter, really. How he managed it, Dean can only guess—angels can time travel, but they can also apparently reconstitute bodies out of ash, so remaking objects probably isn’t that hard. But somehow, the winged wonder turns up Monday morning holding Mom’s wedding dress and her wedding ring, both of which were presumed lost in the fire. They don’t even smell like smoke.

Dean doesn’t cry. Of course he doesn’t.

Okay, maybe a little.

Okay, maybe a lot. Because these things were _Mom’s._ For so many years, all he’s had of Mom are fading memories and a couple of equally fading photographs. Cas knows—hell, he was _there_ the night Mom signed her own death warrant without realizing it. And yeah, he did try to help Sam and Dean save Mom from Anna, and it’s not his fault Michael scrubbed Mom’s memory. So... maybe he can’t bring Mom back, but he’s rescued these tokens of her, and that’s pretty much the next best thing.

He doesn’t say or even sign any of these thoughts to Cas, but Cas seems to understand them anyway. In fact, he _hugs_ Dean, and Dean’s in no fit state to object.

Lisa looks a little put out when she first sees the dress. _Not supposed to see!_ she tells Dean—bad luck, supposedly, but Ben says that’s only if Dean sees Lisa in the dress before the wedding. But once Cas fills her in on where the dress came from, she cries and hugs Cas and then hugs Dean.

Dean doesn’t have the heart to point out that she’s marrying a Winchester, which is all the bad luck she’ll ever need. Besides, it isn’t entirely true. After all, she’s the one who talked Cas into trapping Raphael in Purgatory. Maybe her luck is stronger than his.

Mark and Gwen are off in Idaho on a hunt—snowed in, actually—and can’t come for the wedding, but they’ve already texted Dean their congratulations. He can’t help thinking that Mark wouldn’t have had much more to say in person. Bobby arrives Monday night, though, with Rufus in tow, and they both seem to get along with Henry. In fact, they end up spending the night at Sam’s place so as to have a long talk with Henry that they seem to think Dean doesn’t need to be in on.

But all of them, including Cas, agree not to tell Samuel. Gwen says Samuel probably thinks Dean and Lisa are already married.

As it turns out, however, the courthouse ASL interpreter is off for the week, and Henry volunteers to do the honors before Sam even has a chance. Maybe that’s why Cas told him about the wedding; Dean can’t be sure. With everything being so very Winchester, it feels almost like a betrayal to have to sign his name as Dean Campbell and tell the clerk he’s the one changing his name. But they’d talked about it over supper, he and Lisa and Sam and Ben and Henry, and he tried to make the case that the Braedens are the ones adopting him, not the other way around. He wasn’t sure how well he’d gotten his point across, but Henry doesn’t flinch, and neither does Sam, so maybe Bobby said it better or something.

Still, with Lisa in Mom’s dress and their basically being married by his grandfather, Dean’s too overcome to speak with his voice. He knows he’ll cry if he tries. So he signs, and so does Lisa, and apparently Sam serves as their voice. And Henry’s eyes sparkle when he turns “You may kiss the bride” into _Kiss her, you fool!_

Dean lets out a laugh as convulsive as a sob and obeys. It’s the sweetest kiss of his life.

They adjourn to Sam’s—Sam and Henry’s now, Dean guesses, though that’ll take some getting used to—for pictures, followed by chocolate cake and cherry pie. The family doesn’t have a lot of gifts for them, but that’s okay; Lisa’s got most of the things it seems people give newlyweds, and it is right after Christmas. Sam and Henry give them a stack of homemade “One Night’s Free Babysitting” coupons for Ben, which makes everyone laugh, and Bobby and Rufus give Lisa and Ben each a Supernatural Emergency Kit with holy water and silver and so on. Lisa’s will go in her car; Ben can’t take his to school, but he promises to keep it by his bed. And lastly, Sam hands Dean a card from his boss at the garage, which contains a gift certificate for a two-night stay, meals included, at a bed and breakfast in downtown Indianapolis that Lisa says is supposed to be really nice. Apparently the reservations are already made, too, so Dean and Lisa hand Sam two of the babysitting coupons and take off.

The B&B is _really_ nice... far nicer than even the best places the Winchesters stayed when they were hunting. Even in his Fed suit, Dean feels out of place. But Lisa tells him it’s quiet, and there’s good food and a comfortable bed, and they take things slow and have a good time. More than once, when they’re not—er—busy, he finds himself just looking at her and wondering how he got so lucky, to get the one thing he’s wanted for himself, that she actually said yes.

Part of him keeps expecting to wake up and find it isn’t real. Then again, if it weren’t, he’d be able to hear.

Name change notwithstanding, though, he’s still a Winchester, which means there’s always another shoe to drop. This time, it doesn’t drop until they’re on their way home, when Lisa answers her phone, talks into it for a moment, then hangs up and signs to Dean that they need to meet Sam at the bar.

He frowns. “Why?”

She shrugs. _Not say._

They arrive at the bar to find Sam’s car, Bobby’s Chevelle, and Rufus’ truck in the parking lot, along with a truck that Dean doesn’t recognize and that has a fifth-wheel camper. Inside, Dean sees at a glance that Ben’s not there, but Cas and the rest of the family are, as is the apparent owner of the strange truck—burly guy, about Dean’s height, blue eyes, sandy hair and beard with some grey in it, navy blue pea coat and cap that he takes off as he stands once he sees Lisa. He looks like some kind of sailor, honestly.

 _Ben’s at home_ , Sam signs as soon as Dean looks at him. _This is why I called you_ , he adds, nodding at the stranger, who’s bowing gallantly over Lisa’s hand. _His name is Benny Lafitte._

Lafitte straightens and gives Dean an assessing look.

“Lafitte,” Dean repeats. “As in Jean Lafitte?”

Lafitte laughs. “Descendant.” And he offers Dean his hand.

It’s ice cold, and there isn’t a pulse.

Dean frowns. “What the hell are you?”

Lafitte doesn’t move beyond opening his mouth and showing his fangs briefly.

Dean turns his scowl on Sam, who immediately signs, _Hear him out._

Henry snorts and shakes his head at the word choice. Sam rolls his eyes.

Lafitte looks disappointed. “I can’t use a deaf man.” And he starts to leave.

But Bobby stops him. Dean can’t see what he says, but whatever it is, Lafitte sits down with what looks like a sigh.

Dean turns. “Bobby, what the hell—”

“He says he needs help taking out a vamp nest,” Bobby replies.

Dean blinks. “ _What?_ ”

Bobby points him back to Lafitte and Sam, who interprets. “I’d have done it alone if I could. Lord knows it ain’t easy for a vampire to trust hunters. But I’ve got my reasons for asking for help. And Donnie Finnerman thought you might be trustworthy.”

“Who?”

But suddenly Cas is trying to loom over Lafitte, and Lafitte gets up and tries to loom back. Sam looks like he can’t figure out whether to interpret or intervene.

“Hey!” Dean barks. “Cas, you’re a better door than a window.”

Cas turns back to him, still blocking his view of Lafitte. “Donnie Finnerman is Raphael’s vessel,” he signs and says.

“ _Was_ Raphael’s vessel,” says Lafitte, leaning over so Dean can see his face past Cas’ head. “He’s dead.”

“Raphael’s dead?” Dean repeats.

“No, Donnie’s dead. Now, if Feather-britches will get out of the way—”

Cas turns to glare at Lafitte, but Henry jumps up to drag Cas out of Dean’s line of sight. At a nod from Dean, Lisa goes over to stand beside Bobby, and Dean sits down at the bar, with one chair between him and Lafitte. As Lafitte himself sits down, Sam moves over to interpret again.

“Feather-britches,” Dean echoes. “So you know who Cas is.”

Lafitte nods. “Donnie remembered the two of you from the time you trapped Raphael. That’s why he thought I could trust you, because you knew what Raphael was trying to do and helped stop him.”

“Thought Raphael was in Purgatory.”

“He is. But as soon as he came through that portal, he got bounced out of Donnie—hell if I know how. Raphael took off and left Donnie all by his lonesome. That’s how I found him.”

Dean frowns again. “You were in Purgatory.”

Lafitte nods. “But there’s an escape hatch down there, just for humans. I told Donnie I’d lead him to it if he’d carry my soul out, take it back to my bones, say the spell to put me back together. My old nest has been killing humans and stealing ships nigh on a century, and I wanted to come back and stop them. Donnie said he’d do it on one condition: if he wound up in as bad a shape as he was in the last time Raphael left him, he wanted me to ease his passing.

“Now I drink blood; I don’t drink people. I was hoping there’d be some chance of getting him some help once we got out. But I gave him my word anyhow. Got him to the portal, just like I promised, and he took my soul into him. Normally, the joining’s done through a cut on the arm, but he’d told me about the palsy, so we went with a cut on his chest, just in case. I reckon that’s what let me help him get as far as he did. Let me see some of his memories, too, and some of Raphael’s. Anyway, he... he got me back to my bones.”

“And you killed him.”

“He wasn’t long for this world anyway, Dean, even if I’d patched up his chest. And I don’t just mean the palsy. His heart was skipping; one lung was missing; his kidneys about quit working....” Lafitte shakes his head, and his nostrils flare with a snort. “For a healer, St. Raphael sure left old Donnie a mess.” Then his chest moves with a sigh, and he looks away as he shakes his head again. “First friend I’d had in fifty years, and I had to be the one to help him pass on.”

Dean nods slowly. He doesn’t know why he buys it, but there’s something open and honest in Lafitte’s blue eyes, and his posture doesn’t betray anything he might be holding back. He’s wary, of course, as any monster in a room full of hunters would be, but... he reminds Dean of Lenore somehow. And having seen the state Donnie was in after his brief initial possession by Raphael a couple of years ago, Dean could well imagine that subsequent stints would result in more than catatonia and motor-nerve damage.

“All right,” Dean says, “say we believe you. Why are you here?”

“I called Castiel, and he said he’d meet me here, ask you folks to join us.”

“Why?”

Lafitte looks him in the eye again. “Because I’m being followed.”

That gets everyone’s attention.

 _By angels, hunters, or vampires?_ Cas asks, feeding his question into Dean’s mind.

“I don’t know,” Lafitte replies. “Some of each, maybe—I’m not sure. All I know is, I keep seeing the same people out the corner of my eye, or did until I got here. Started after I took Donnie’s sister, Mona, out to show her where I’d buried him. And Mona, she called me yesterday... couple of black suits showed up at her door, asking where she’d found Donnie, if he’d said where he’d been, that kind of thing.”

A general round of curses goes up at that.

Henry steps into Dean’s peripheral vision and asks with hands and voice, “Tell us more about this portal. Could Raphael have followed you out?”

“Not to my knowledge,” says Lafitte. “He wasn’t anywhere near us that I could tell. And all the lore I know says it’s for humans only and opens only one way. So even if the angels find it, they most likely can’t get in that way.”

“It seems to me,” Rufus says through Lisa, “that we’ve got three major problems to tackle here. One is finding out more about that portal; one is making sure Raphael’s supporters can’t get in the same way he did, or else can’t get back out if they do get in; and one is taking out this vampire pirate nest.”

Dean blinks. “Vamp— _vampirates?!_ ”

Sam rolls his eyes again, but Lafitte laughs. “Never heard that one!”

“Seriously?! That’s, like, the third thing you say.”

Sam’s shoulders move in the _My brother is an idiot_ sigh. Dean ignores him.

Bobby waves to get Dean’s attention. “I’ll go talk to Dr. Visyak,” he says, and Dean recognizes the name only because Bobby wrote it out for him once after Raphael had been trapped. “Reckon she’ll listen to me and Cas. You boys hit the books.”

Dean nods. “That leaves the nest.” He turns back to Sam. “You got any contact info for Lenore?”

Sam shakes his head but nods toward Cas, who has that weird far-away look he gets when he’s hearing something on Angel Radio. Then Cas says something to Lafitte that Dean doesn’t quite catch.

Lafitte nods like he’s making a mental note. “Who is Lenore?”

“She doesn’t drink people, either,” Dean replies.

Sam gives Dean the _I got this_ look and starts explaining Lenore’s story to Lafitte, who turns to look at him. Dean doesn’t move, but he does glance over just as Henry signs to Lisa, _You, Ben, with us._

Lisa looks at Dean, who nods once, and signs _Okay_ to Henry.

At the same time, Bobby looks at Rufus and tilts his head toward Lafitte. Rufus barely nods. And that makes Dean feel better—Rufus is no Gordon Walker (thank goodness), but he can keep an eye on Lafitte and make sure he’s telling the truth about his mission. If Lafitte is on the level but things go sideways, Rufus can be an additional backup option. And he can judge Lafitte’s tails better than almost anyone, considering how many hunters he knows as well as the intel he has about the angels.

There’s some desultory small talk to wrap up the conversation that Dean mostly ignores, since it doesn’t really concern him. And then they all leave at the same time; Cas zaps Bobby away to wherever, but the other drivers and passengers go to their respective vehicles. Rufus and Lafitte head one way, out of town. The Winchesters go the opposite direction, Sam and Henry peeling off to get packed and Dean and Lisa driving home to collect Ben and check the weather.

Dean parks the truck in the driveway with a sigh and just sits for a moment. He’d known that other shoe was coming.

Then Lisa takes his hand and rubs the back of it a little. When he looks at her, she mouths, _It’ll be okay._

He kisses her.

* * *

It probably shouldn’t surprise Henry so much that Sam, who’s been settled here for a year, can pack even faster than he, who’s been here less than a week. And maybe he’s less surprised than he is sad. What lives these boys have led....

In any case, with a duffle borrowed from Sam, Henry’s packed and ready in fifteen minutes, the library key securely in his back pocket as they lock up and go down to Sam’s car. Daylight’s already waning, but the streets here in town aren’t treacherous, so it’s only a matter of a few more minutes before they pull into the Braedens’ driveway. But there’s sound coming from the garage when they get out.

“Sounds like Dean’s putting chains on his tires,” says Sam. “I should go help him. You can go on inside, though.”

“All right,” Henry agrees. “Come get me if you need me.”

Sam nods and heads around to the garage’s side door while Henry goes to the front door, where he knocks, waits for Lisa’s “Come in,” and enters. Ben is evidently either upstairs or out in the garage, but Lisa is loading the last of the Christmas leftovers into a green-and-white cooler.

“So!” Henry begins. “How are you enjoying being... is it Mrs. Braeden or Mrs. Winchester?”

She smiles and shrugs. “Oh, what’s in a name?”

He chuckles.

“He’s still a Winchester. You know that, right? And I totally wouldn’t have minded doing the extra paperwork to change my name and have Dean legally adopt Ben.”

“So why didn’t you?” He isn’t angry about the name change—the future is a foreign country, after all, and he did accept Dean’s rationale—but it does still smart a little, and he is genuinely curious as to Lisa’s rationale, which she hadn’t tried to offer before the wedding.

She sighs. “Sam and Dean Winchester ‘died’ in an explosion in Colorado three years ago. Before that, they’d spent a year or so on the FBI’s Most Wanted list because a certain agent kept putting the pieces together the wrong way.”

His heart sinks.

“Campbell’s the name they’ve been using here in town; Bobby’s built them enough of a paper trail to pass, and it’s safer than their usual line of aliases, which are mostly musicians’ names. But—I mean, Dean’s not wrong. Ben and I are the ones who’ve been settled and stable; we’re the ones letting you guys into our lives. But it’s not like we don’t want to be as much a part of your family as Dean is of ours. It’s just....” She trails off, looking at that cooler, closing the lid and running a hand over it.

“Just?” he prompts after a moment.

She looks at him again. “I’ve given him a legal identity again. He can be _himself_ again now—he doesn’t have to hide who he is, what he does, and—he’s—he’s _out_. It doesn’t change who he was, and I don’t want him to. But... it’s like I gave him back a piece of himself he didn’t know was missing. He’s still Dean Winchester, but now... he’s also Dean Braeden, my husband, and that’s real. He doesn’t need an alias anymore.”

Henry nods slowly.

She bites her lip. “You’re not mad?”

He smiles a little. “Like you said. What’s in a name?”

She smiles back.

Ben comes downstairs with a suitcase just about the time the boys come in from the garage. “All set,” Dean announces. “Sam’s leavin’ the Charger here; figure it’s safer in a locked garage.”

Lisa nods, but Henry frowns. The only vehicle he’s seen Dean drive is a standard-cab pickup (and he knows about extended/crew cabs only because he’s seen some on the roads and asked Sam about them). They can’t possibly all fit in that, and it’s far too cold for anyone to ride in the back even as far as the apartment, never mind the far side of Kansas.

Ben, on the other hand, gasps delightedly. _We take deer-car?_ he signs.

Dean chuckles. “Yup. You ready?”

Ben nods and holds up his suitcase.

Dean looks at Lisa, who nods again and hands the cooler to Sam. Then Dean looks at Henry. “C’mon. Come meet my baby.”

Bewildered, Henry follows the rest of the family out to the curb, where sits a gleaming black car that looks much more like the cars he’s used to. It’s a Chevrolet, he discovers as he rounds the front, with Ohio plates, and he recognizes it belatedly as the car in the picture of John and the boys that’s in John’s journal. There should be room enough for all of them in here, certainly—and then some.

“She was Dad’s,” Dean says quietly with a small, proud smile, putting a hand on the hood as if petting a beloved dog or horse. “He gave her to me when I turned 16.”

Henry tucks his hands into the pockets of John’s jacket and wonders whether the sense of an arm wrapping affectionately around his shoulders is purely his imagination.

Sam finishes putting the last of the bags into the trunk, opens the back passenger door for Lisa, and tosses the keys to Dean, and the brothers get into the front seat in tandem as if by long habit and shut the doors at exactly the same time. Henry gets in on Dean’s side while Ben slides in to the middle and Lisa gets in after him; their door closing isn’t quite so perfectly timed. But then the car starts with a growl from the engine and a wail from the radio, and they’re off.

Ben spends the drive to Champaign, where they stop for supper and gas, telling Henry everything he knows about this ’67 Impala, including the story of the first time he rode in it after the boys had rescued him from a changeling nest. Sam turns the radio down when Dean isn’t looking, but since the rhythm Dean occasionally drums on the steering wheel doesn’t match the music at all, he seems to be imagining his own broadcast anyway. And all in all, it’s a pretty pleasant drive... until they cross the Mississippi at Hannibal, Missouri, and nearly slide off the road in spite of the chains on the tires due to a patch of black ice.

As soon as they’re out of harm’s way, Sam touches Dean’s arm and points at his watch.

“What?” Dean replies. “We don’t have time to stop, dude. ’Sides, museum’s probably closed by now anyway.”

Sam looks sour, but Lisa taps Dean on the shoulder. _Hotel_ , she signs when he looks in the mirror at her. _Now._

“But—”

 _NOW_ , Sam and Lisa sign in unison.

Grumbling, Dean turns off at the next exit, stops for gas, and has Sam ask for directions to a motel. Sam agrees to do so only on the condition that he be allowed to drive to said motel. Dean grumbles all the more but slaps the keys into Sam’s waiting hand.

Henry waits until both boys are out of the car to turn to Lisa and ask, “Are they always like this?”

She nods. “Pretty much.”

Ben laughs.

Sam returns about the time Dean finishes filling the tank, and once they’re back on the street, Sam drives past a couple of seedier-looking hotels to a Best Western. He makes sure to point out a few museums like the Mark Twain Boyhood Home as they pass.

“Geek,” Dean mutters, looking the other way.

Sam takes charge of booking them in and gets two rooms, each with two queen beds. Dean’s still muttering under his breath, so presumably Sam doesn’t want Dean to know how much they’re spending. But Henry’s suddenly too tired to care. It barely even registers that the doors use some kind of card reader instead of a key. He goes straight to bed and sleeps like a log, and it’s not until morning that he notices the salt lines at the door and windows.

Despite sleeping more deeply than he has all week, Henry wakes around 6:30, before Sam does. He takes his time getting ready for the day, but the sky’s still barely beginning to lighten by the time he finishes in the bathroom and decides to venture down to try the Continental breakfast. So he’s surprised to find Dean already there, digging into a stack of Belgian waffles with a steaming cup of coffee beside his plate.

Dean looks up as Henry approaches, nods once, and swallows. “Mornin’,” he says quietly.

 _Good morning_ , Henry signs with a smile. _Better today?_

Dean shrugs. “Just hate stoppin’ when people’s lives are at risk.”

_Road bad._

“Not _that_ bad. I talked to Rachel before we left; she said she’d send an escort. We’ll be fine.”

Henry frowns a little. _Rachel?_

 _Angel_ , Dean signs back with a glance over Henry’s shoulder at a stranger who’s just walked in. “You met for, like, five seconds Christmas Eve,” he continues aloud. “Blonde, works with Cas.”

Henry nods in partial comprehension. He doesn’t know if he would recognize any of the angels that had killed Abaddon if he saw them again, but the description does at least fill in enough of the blanks to go on.

Dean takes a drink of coffee and looks at Henry again. “I don’t think I ever said thank you, by the way. For Tuesday. Hadn’t told you ’cause I wasn’t sure if you’d be offended—I mean, me and Lisa... it hasn’t been exactly by the book.”

The revelation had bothered Henry, to be honest, but coming as it did in the context of Cas’ announcement that the ceremony was going to lack an interpreter, he’d found it easier to get over than it would have been if he hadn’t known Dean and Lisa were getting married. So his only reply now is, _You made it right._

Dean gives him a small smile and goes back to eating.

The rest of the family joins them over the next half hour, and it’s full daylight by the time they check out shortly after 8. The snow-covered parking lot looks pristine and untouched, as if no one’s been out since the snow fell overnight... yet there’s a tall, thin young man standing beside Dean’s car when they walk out.

 _Need help?_ the youth signs to Dean.

Dean shakes his head. “Nah, we’re good. Just keep us on the road.”

The youth nods his understanding.

Dean nods back. “Thanks, Alfie.”

A flicker of amused annoyance crosses the youth’s face, and he—vanishes, leaving Dean and Ben to start putting bags back in the trunk.

Bewildered, Henry turns to Sam. “Alfie?”

Sam huffs, but he can’t hold back a fond smile. “Samandiriel. His vessel’s name is Alfie. Dean hates long names anyway, and we didn’t meet most of Cas’ garrison until after Dean went deaf, so....”

Henry nods in comprehension. “He uses the name he can pronounce.”

“Exactly. Samandiriel hasn’t dealt with Dean face to face much, but he gets it, and he’s... pretty okay for an angel.”

Henry isn’t sure he wants to know the reason for that remark. Of course, given what he’s heard about Raphael this week, he can guess. Apparently Abaddon’s not the only area where the Men of Letters’ information was woefully inadequate.

“At least we’re in the States and in our own car,” Sam continues, handing his bag to Dean. “This time last year we were in London, and the weather was... just about like this.”

Dean apparently sees some, if not all, of that comment and grumbles something about people driving on the wrong side of the road.

“In London we had the Range Rover,” Lisa notes. “That Mini, though....”

Dean groans. “I swear, I’m never gettin’ in one of those clown cars again.”

Sam snickers.

“Wait,” Henry breaks in. “Why were you in London?”

And _Dean_ ends up being the one to spend most of the next hour telling the long story of the family’s trip to the UK, combining a successful hunt for the King of Hell with a family vacation that Henry feels slightly jealous to have missed. Sam even has some of his pictures of Nessie on his phone still and shows them to Henry, though Ben has to coach him on how to view them.

The tale does a fairly good job of distracting Henry from the state of the road, which is more treacherous than he’d want to travel were it not an emergency. Once Dean’s finished talking, though, Henry finds it harder to ignore the more than occasional fishtailing and the frequency with which Samandiriel, though unseen, adds weight to the car to counteract the slickness of the ice. Their gas and snack break in St. Joseph is a welcome respite, and by the time they’ve finished sliding across Kansas, Henry’s decided he’s about lost his taste for ice skating.

Still, between Dean’s skill and Samandiriel’s aid, they make it to Lebanon in one piece. Since they’ve already stopped for lunch in Marysville, they go straight on from town to the Letters’ hidden library. Sam signs directions to Dean, and Henry gets the key ready in advance so they don’t have to spend any more time out in the cold than necessary. Once they arrive, they quickly grab their bags and the cooler out of the trunk, along with flashlights, and Henry leads them down the steps to the nondescript door in the hillside.

“Thanks, Alfie,” he hears Dean murmur. “Thinkin’ you should stay out here, though, keep an eye out for Cas—or any uninvited guests.”

Samandiriel doesn’t materialize, so Henry assumes the angel’s heeded Dean’s advice.

Both the size of the space behind the door and the presence of the command center at the bottom of the stairs surprise Henry when they walk in. He’s known that the command center existed, of course, but he always thought it was in Normal. If there’s even more than the library here, he can’t help wondering why the society’s official headquarters were in Normal at all. The air is fresh, though, comfortably warm but not hot enough to endanger fragile manuscripts, and it smells of leather and old books and candy.

Then Dean gets the lights on, and just as Lisa sets the cooler on the map table for the moment, Sam and Ben gasp at the same time. Henry turns to see what they’re looking at and can’t hold back a gasp of his own. He’s been expecting a library, of course, but this... this library is _gorgeous_. He drifts toward its entrance, as do Sam and Ben, and Dean and Lisa join them a moment later. They stand there together, drinking in the sight.

“Whoa,” Ben finally breathes.

Dean has one arm around Ben’s shoulders and the other around Lisa’s waist, but what he says is, “Sammy, I think we found the Batcave.”

Sam just nods.

After a moment, Lisa pats Dean’s chest and tugs lightly on the strap of his duffle.

Dean nods. “Yeah, we should get settled before we get to work. Good idea.”

An hour later, they are settled enough for the afternoon—the solidly frozen leftovers are thawing in the kitchen; the car is thawing in the garage; bedrooms have been found and allocated, and bathrooms have been located. Sam sets up his computer in the library while Henry skims through the card catalogue and Lisa jots notes for him, and Dean and Ben are wandering through the stacks looking at the various artifacts on display. Once Henry’s located five likely titles, Lisa calls the others over, and they divvy up the list.

Ben’s not terribly happy about having to do research, but Dean says, “This is part of hunting, too, dude. Not that I want you hunting, but even when we thought we had a straightforward case, we had to make sure we were hunting the right thing. And if we didn’t know what it was, we really had to hit the books. Boring, yeah, although Sam likes that side of it, but we had to do it every time.”

Judging from his frown, Ben’s never considered that side of the process before. Henry’s just glad to hear Dean say that he doesn’t want Ben hunting—now that they’re in a position to revive the Men of Letters, Henry would much rather see Ben join their ranks if he’s inclined to follow in Dean’s footsteps at all.

Sam reaches his shelf and says, “Huh. This book’s pulled out partway, like someone had just been looking at it before the call came to go deal with Abaddon.”

Henry blinks. “That’s quite a coincidence.”

Sam gives Henry a look that says he doesn’t believe in coincidences. But he retrieves the book anyway. Once the other books have been found, everyone goes back to the tables; Lisa and Ben sit together at one, Sam and Dean across from each other at the other. After a slight hesitation, Henry sits down beside Dean, who smiles at him before digging into his book.

An hour or so of silence follows, broken only by the turning of pages, until Sam says “ _Huh_ ” again and gently kicks Dean under the table.

The rest of the family looks up. “Got somethin’, Sammy?” Dean asks.

“More than I thought,” Sam replies with hands and voice. “Benny’s right about the escape hatch in Purgatory; it can’t be opened from Earth’s side, and Raphael would have to be almost completely human to pass through it. But check this out.” He looks down but continues to sign as he reads, “‘Heaven and Hell were built for human habitation, but neither Purgatory nor the dimension housing Lucifer’s Cage has the same purpose. _Both_ therefore contain a portal by which a human trapped therein may escape.’ So if that’s true....”

Dean frowns. “You thinkin’ you got _yourself_ out?”

Sam looks up again and nods. “And maybe Adam, too, or maybe Adam found his own way out. But it sounded like both Benny and Donnie escaped from Purgatory with their memories intact. So who wiped my memories of the Cage?”

“Cas said he didn’t know who it could have been.”

“Which rules out anyone on his side, and I doubt anyone on Raphael’s side would care. But only an angel has the mojo to do that, right?”

“As far as we know.”

Both brothers look at Henry, who shrugs. He doesn’t remember encountering lore about creatures of any kind being able to erase traumatic memories.

Dean turns back to Sam, who’s frowning in confusion as he stammers, “That leaves—but—but that’s—it can’t—he’s—”

“Spit it out, Sam,” says an unfamiliar male voice. “Might be a new car.”

Sam and Dean both gasp as they look up at the newcomer standing between the tables, who looks like a man in his early forties with light brown hair and golden hazel eyes. “Gabriel?!”

Then, before the newcomer can do more than smirk, Dean’s on his feet. “Never thought I’d be this glad to see _you_ ,” he says with a grin—and hugs the guy.

Gabriel’s startled briefly, but then, with a good-natured grumble of “Watch the wings, muttonhead,” he returns the hug.

When Dean lets go and sits down again, Sam says, “Dude. What—how are you even _alive?_ ”

Gabriel shrugs and signs as he says, “Beats me. Guess Dad brought me back around the same time he did Castiel. I hung out in Stull until you came back, erased your browser history, and came here to hang out until either the coast was clear or you mooks showed up looking for something. With Luci back in the Cage, the future’s pretty fuzzy, even for me.”

“How did you get in?”

Gabriel holds up a duplicate key. “Swiped it last time I was here, in ’37.”

“Nineteen thirty-seven?!” Ben echoes incredulously.

Sam points Dean to Ben as Gabriel turns, and Dean clears his throat. “Uh, Ben, Lisa, Henry... this is Gabriel. The archangel.”

Ben nearly swallows his teeth.

“Oh, fear not and all the rest of it,” Gabriel grouses, still signing. “I’m Castiel’s big brother, okay? I know these two think of Castiel as practically family. And since you’re— _not_ so honorary Winchesters,” he adds, catching sight of Lisa’s wedding ring, “he’s practically family to you, too, so it’s only logical that I would be as well.”

“I wouldn’t go _that_ far,” Dean jibes, earning him an amused glare.

Sam taps Dean’s wrist. “So, Gabriel, it _was_ you who erased those memories?”

“Yep,” Gabriel replies.

“I’m—I’m grateful, truly, but—why?”

Something in Gabriel’s eyes softens a little, though his cocky front doesn’t change as he shrugs. “I owed you for Broward County.”

That means nothing to Henry, but it clearly means a lot to Sam, whose eyes also soften as he signs, _Thank you_.

Dean clears his throat. “So you’ve just been hangin’ out here for the last... what, year and a half?”

Gabriel nods.

“Doin’ what?”

Gabriel shrugs again. “Cleaned up, organized the artifacts, read the library, found where Dorothy Baum had stuck herself and the Wicked Witch of the West in stasis, turned the witch into a basketball in hopes of finding a way to kill her.”

“ _The_ Wicked Witch?” Sam repeats. “As in _Wizard of Oz_?!”

“Yep, L. Frank Baum was a Man of Letters. Wrote the books based on what Dorothy really did over there. We found the key to Oz that the witch was after, but Dorothy couldn’t find a solution before I got tired of shooting hoops. So she took the key and went back to Oz, and I shoved the witch into a universe with no magic at all.”

Dean stares. “You didn’t.”

“I did.”

Dean bursts out laughing. When Sam tilts his head in confusion, Dean barely manages to sign, _S-camera FACE!_

And then the rest of the family starts laughing equally uproariously, and Henry has absolutely no idea why.

* * *

A world away, the unidentified crone who was arrested for breaking onto the KM Studios lot and interrupting the filming of “Appointment in Samarra” tries to cast a hex during her arraignment hearing. When that fails, she throws her lawyer’s briefcase at the judge, and the judge throws the book at her. Later, in prison, she attacks and kills a fellow inmate. She manages to escape from the courtroom during her hearing for that crime, only to run headlong into oncoming traffic, where she is struck and killed by a former _Stargate_ producer.

So ends the Wicked Witch of the West, although no one realizes it until nearly three years later, long after the shoot-out during “The French Mistake” nearly killed _Supernatural_ and caused the old Jane Doe to be mostly forgotten. Then Maya Massar shows up on set for her first scene as the witch in “Slumber Party,” and Jensen takes one look at her and runs screaming back to his trailer.

* * *

After Sam calls Bobby to report what they’ve learned, Lisa heats up supper, and the family sits down to eat and catch up with Gabriel. There’s much more raucous laughter, and it eases Henry’s heart even as he learns more horrifying details about the boys’ past. Still, even he has to confess that the image of Sam being turned into a car is funny.

Then the kids all call it a night early, and Henry finds himself alone in the library, having no success in trying to read. His losses weigh on him anew, and he ponders the great wealth of knowledge that’s been hidden here all these years—protected, true, but also _lost_ —and grieves that not only he but also John and the boys had been kept from it for so long. How much misery would John have been spared if he’d been allowed access to all this, access that should have been his by right?

“Shoulda, coulda, woulda,” says Gabriel, appearing in the chair across from Henry. “Nothing would have changed for John if you’d stayed, except the closure of knowing you were dead. At least this way you kept Abaddon out of the mix. Granted, Sam and Dean still had to deal with the other lords of Hell, but....”

Henry sighs heavily and shakes his head. “I know. I gathered as much from what Cas told me. It’s still hard to accept that I couldn’t have changed anything. This wasn’t supposed to happen.”

“No, it wasn’t, but what was supposed to happen isn’t anything you would have wanted, either. Then again, what we thought was supposed to happen evidently wasn’t what Dad had in mind.”

“How much worse would it have been?”

“End-of-the-world worse. Dean-killing-Sam worse. No idea where you were supposed to end up, but you wouldn’t have lived to see Dean and Lisa’s wedding, for sure.”

“And if Dean weren’t deaf?”

Gabriel shakes his head. “Even I don’t know that one.”

A tear rolls down Henry’s cheek.

“Hey. Bright side. You’re alive, and Abaddon’s dead. And the whole mess with Raphael’s Plan B is o—” Gabriel suddenly breaks off mid-word, looking away as if he hears something, and his face grows grave.

Henry frowns, concerned. “What is it?”

Gabriel looks at him again. “Go wake your grandsons. Castiel’s just found Raphael.”

* * *

In Washington, meanwhile, Benny takes a blood bag from his cooler and goes to Andrea, who’s been pumped full of dead man’s blood to keep her subdued. Lenore and her nest arrived in Eagle Harbor yesterday, after Benny called the number Castiel had given him; they’d been in Montana, and while Benny and Rufus had a much longer drive and have just now gotten to this rendezvous point on the inland side of the Cascades, Lenore hadn’t wanted to wait to start scouting. But one of Lenore’s nestmates, Eli, who’s Benny’s younger-looking doppelganger, ran into Andrea in Eagle Harbor and discovered that she also wanted the Old Man dead. So Eli doped her up, tied her up, and brought her here to wait while the rest of the nest burns the Old Man’s empire to the ground. He’s watching warily, as is Rufus, but Benny needs to get her back on her feet at least somewhat before he can figure out whether her unlife should have been spared.

He kneels by Andrea’s chair and puts a hand to her cheek. “Andrea, darlin’?”

Her eyelids flutter as she looks at him sluggishly. “Benny?”

He uncaps the blood bag with his thumb. “Need you to drink this.”

“Are there... two of you?”

“Only one o’ me. Other guy just knows what a good-lookin’ face I have.”

Eli chuckles.

Benny slides the blood bag’s opening into her mouth and squeezes a little. At the taste of good blood, she perks up a little and begins to drink freely.

“Better?” he asks once she’s drained the bag.

She nods slowly, her eyes clearer, but she’s still clearly suffering from the dead man’s blood. “You used to do that, didn’t you?”

“Yeah. Still do, now I’m back.”

“It’s... different.”

“It’s freedom.”

She smiles a little, but it fades. “Benny, where are we?”

“Away. ’S all that matters right now.”

“But Father—”

“I’ve got friends. Eli’s nest. They’re takin’ care of the Old Man right now.”

Benny’s phone, the one Mona helped him pick out back in Clayton, rings before Andrea can say anything else. But the female voice that speaks when he answers isn’t Lenore, as he expects.

It’s Mona, and she’s in a panic. “Benny!” she cries over a high-pitched whine. “Benny, there’s this light and a voice—and it’s—it’s saying, ‘Please let me in!’”

“No!” Benny barks, jerking to his feet. He doesn’t know a lot about angels, but he knows what Donnie remembered of accepting Raphael. And he’s not about to let Mona end up like her brother. “Keep sayin’ no, dammit! Tell ’im to find another way! _That’s the thing that took Donnie!_ ”

Rufus swears, and Mona gasps—and suddenly the whine stops. It’s quiet for a moment.

“Mona?” Benny prompts.

“I’m here,” she answers shakily. “It’s... it’s gone. You mentioned Donnie, and it left.”

He frowns. “What the hell—”

Then she screams, but Benny can just hear Donnie’s voice say, “Fear not.”

“Mona,” Benny says as calmly as he can, “put me on speakerphone.” He hears a beep and takes that as his cue to roar, “What the _hell_ are you doin’, Raphael?!”

“I’m trying to apologize,” Raphael replies, sounding weary. “I had forgotten that if a vessel will not consent, we may make our own.”

“Well, then why didn’t you—”

Benny’s interrupted by a scuffle on Mona’s end, followed by Castiel picking up the phone. “My garrison has captured Raphael,” he says without preamble. “Mona’s no longer in danger.”

“Glory hallelujah,” Benny replies. “What’ll you do with him?”

“That’s none of your concern. How is your own errand proceeding?”

“Waitin’ for word from Lenore.”

“I’ll leave you to it, then. And Benny... thank you for helping Mona, and for warning us.” But Castiel hangs up before Benny can reply.

“What happened?” Rufus demands.

Benny sighs. “That fool Raphael decided to make his own vessel, and it looks like Donnie. Scared the fire out o’ Mona. But Castiel’s got him.”

Rufus blows out a breath. “Okay. I’d best call Bob, let him know. I’ll be outside if you need me.” As he leaves, he pulls out his cell phone.

Then Benny finally registers the odd looks both Eli and Andrea are giving him. “Angel politics,” he explains with a shrug. “It’s complicated.”

“Angels,” Eli echoes flatly.

“What do you have to do with angels?” Andrea asks.

“It’s a long story,” says Benny.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

Benny looks at her, looks at Eli, and starts toward the cooler. “Get you a drink?” he asks Eli.

* * *

Dean’s pacing, Henry’s sharpening pencils with a pocketknife, and Sam catches himself bouncing his knee up and down. Even Gabriel is on edge, although he’s sitting still. Lisa and Ben are still asleep, but even if Henry hadn’t woken the brothers, the call Sam got from Bobby five minutes later would have. All they know for sure at this point is that Cas is bringing Raphael to them, but they don’t know how soon or why.

Then Dean turns suddenly to look at Gabriel just before Gabriel announces quietly, “They’re here.”

As Sam and Henry stand, Dean squares his shoulders and marches up the stairs to open the bunker door. He returns with Cas, Bobby, and Raphael under heavy guard—Rachel, Samandiriel, Inias, and three or four others Sam halfway recognizes. He’s glad Bobby warned them about Raphael’s DIY vessel; otherwise it would have been much more disconcerting to see him still in Donnie Finnerman’s guise. But Raphael’s not acting just defeated. He moves almost like he’s hurt.

The procession enters the library and stops in front of the tables. Dean turns around to face Raphael, and Sam walks over to stand beside him.

But before anyone else can say anything, Raphael raises his hands to sign. “Sam, Dean. I have sinned against God and against you. My plans have wrought great harm, and I see their folly now for what it was. I am sorry.”

Sam doesn’t know what to say. Dean crosses his arms and doesn’t say anything.

 _Dean_ , Raphael continues in ASL alone, _I not know what strength I have left, but if I am able, if I may, I will restore your hearing._

“No,” Dean replies.

The others’ shock is palpable, but no one’s more shocked than Sam. Yeah, he’s suspected that would be Dean’s answer if asked, but still....

“If you want to make this right,” Dean continues, “if you really want to fix things, then you go back and fix it _all_. From ’58 on, or wherever the hell it starts. You make it so Abaddon never attacks Henry. Dad never meets Mom. We’re never born. And no one dies because of us. Jo, Ellen, Ash, no one.”

Raphael looks crushed. _Can’t._

“Then you don’t get to fix me. I accept the apology, but I want you to look at me the rest of my life, without my ears, and remember what you and your brothers have done.”

Raphael actually looks ready to cry, but he nods.

Gabriel walks past the brothers and looks at Raphael closely. “Pardon my French, brother,” he says and Sam signs for Dean, “but you look like hell.”

Raphael smiles wryly. “Like Purgatory, really.”

“Almost human enough to get through the portal.”

“You’re not wrong. I have... been humbled.”

“What happened?”

“There are many monsters in Purgatory that would attack an angel trapped there. Most are easy enough to kill. But there’s one that could devour even us. Leviathan.”

Gabriel hisses. “Dad never let us even see those.”

Raphael nods. “And for good reason. They nearly killed me. I barely managed to escape them and reach the portal. I fear that even in Heaven, it will be a long time before I’m fully healed.”

Gabriel nods slowly. “Well, then, I guess you’d better get up there and get started.”

At a nod from Cas, the garrison vanishes, taking Raphael with them.

Then Cas turns to Gabriel. “Gabriel, I—”

“Skip it,” Gabriel says and slugs Cas on the shoulder. “You did good, kid.”

“Then why does it feel like I’ve done bad?”

“Because Lucifer turned far more on its head upstairs than anyone realized, and the lower choirs wound up thinking the status quo was good when... it was just the status quo. And with radio silence from Dad, there wasn’t much chance for any of us to see anything different. Until these idiots came along,” Gabriel adds with a half smile at the Winchesters.

Cas smiles briefly, too, but his smile fades as he looks at Dean. _You’re sure?_ he signs.

Bobby looks like he wants to ask the same thing, though there’s pride warring with the worry in his eyes.

Dean’s deflated some, now that the other angels are gone, but he nods. “Yeah. Hate bein’ deaf, but... it’s better than lettin’ Raphael off too easy. Fixin’ my ears will not change a damn thing, and he knows it. Besides, I’m done with takin’ cheap miracles.”

Bobby nods slowly and gives Dean a thumbs-up. He knows all too well what the cost of healing can mean—not that Dean’s soul was at risk this time, necessarily, but Sam’s sure Bobby’s thinking of what it took to get his legs back and is glad Dean’s not facing the same sort of mess.

Henry puts a hand on Dean’s shoulder, and when Dean turns to him, he signs, _I’m proud of you._

And Dean finally smiles. “Thanks, Henry.”

* * *

Morning, being New Year’s Eve, brings the decision for the family to stay a while. The roads have gotten even worse, and with the immediate crisis over, there’s no reason for them to rush back to Cicero. Well, none but work and school, but Lisa calls and leaves a message at the school claiming a family emergency, and Sam calls the bar and the garage and arranges more time off. So Gabriel gives them the grand tour of the bunker, and Bobby and Sam and Henry geek out over the library and talk through options for making digital backups of everything, with occasional input from Ben, and they spend the evening watching movies and playing board games—the way Dean had planned to spend Christmas Eve, honestly, except with more people.

And a wedding ring.

And a midnight kiss that could set the world on fire.

And if anyone notices Dean and Lisa slipping away from the party to ring in the new year their own way... well, _Dean_ can’t hear them say anything about it.

He’s not going to tell Ben about Raphael’s offer, but he does confess it to Lisa as they’re on their way to sleep. She just signs _I love you_ and kisses him again and holds him as he drifts off.

They end up staying most of the next week, but then the roads clear and there’s really no excuse for staying longer. So after an early breakfast, Cas goes back to Heaven and Gabriel goes off to do whatever, and Bobby rides back to Cicero with the Winchesters.

Dean surprises Sam by stopping in Hannibal long enough to go through a couple of museums. Sam thanks him by ordering him a slice of pie at supper.

They get back to Cicero late enough that everyone sleeps at the Braedens’ house that night. Then Sam takes Henry back to the apartment with the promise to come back in time for lunch—they’d stay, but Sam has to renew his lease anyway and needs Henry there to add his name. And Dean drives Bobby to the bar to collect his car.

“You doin’ all right, son?” Bobby asks when they get out at the bar and can face each other.

Dean considers. “I guess. I mean, this”—he gestures to his ear—“I can live with. Been dealin’ with it long enough now, it’s just life. I just... don’t know if I’ll ever get used to _normal_ , y’know? But on the other hand, I can’t help wondering whether it’s really over.”

“Just ’cause the show ain’t over don’t mean you ain’t done your bit. You got a job, a wife, a son. You got your brother, your grandfather.” Bobby puts a hand on Dean’s shoulder. “Time to stand down, be a Man of Letters a while.”

Dean smiles. “Thanks, Bobby.”

They hug, and Bobby leaves. And Dean goes... home.

What a concept.

**Author's Note:**

> And here, dear readers, I believe it's time for me to leave this AU. Many thanks to beta extraordinaire jennytork, whose fault it is and always will be, and who supplied a couple of lines to get me unstuck when I needed it. ♥


End file.
